The Stewards of Reed, Volume 1: The Rise of Fallon

by Wark, RM

Gordon stared at him for a while but said nothing. Then he nodded his head and started up the trail to the right.

  I am certain I took that trail at some point, thought Gentry, a bit annoyed as he watched Gordon climb the path. I suppose my mind was playing tricks on me.

  It only took three days for Gentry to complete his hike down the mountain. The basket of food that Abigail prepared was more than enough nourishment and the weather had been decent albeit cold. Gentry almost shouted with glee when he saw Pike’s Road – the road back to Yukon – just a few hundred yards below.

  *************

  Several weeks passed before the cobbler ran into Dennison at the Settler’s Inn. It was late in the evening and Ned had consumed more than his fair share of ale. With each drink Ned’s voice became louder and louder and more impossible to ignore.

  “Shut your fat face up!” Dennison bellowed, glaring at Ned. It had been a long day and he was in no mood for drunken bantering.

  “Who, me?” asked Ned, looking around with feigned surprise that the harsh words had been directed at him.

  “Fool. You are the only fat lard in this place. Of course I mean you.” Dennison swallowed another mouthful of ale. If Ned had not been the only shoe cobbler in the village – and if his loose lips had not proved useful so often – Dennison might have dealt with him long ago.

  “I may be fat but I am no fool,” Ned replied, his words slightly slurred. “You were deceived by a simple stable boy, my friend. I would say that makes you the fool.”

  *************

  Casper let out a series of long neighs when he saw his old friend enter the stable. The feeling was mutual – Gentry had never been more happy to see his horse. Gentry stayed the night at Otto’s Place and arose early the next morning to stock up on supplies for their journey home. After paying Otto a handsome fee for the care of Casper, the two set off towards Norman.

  This go-around, Gentry managed to stay out of the streams. It helped that the broken bridge had been repaired and that the water levels of the streams had receded somewhat now that there was less snowmelt. They spent a night at the Timberland Inn and Tavern in Norman, stocked up on more supplies, and headed back along the North Road to Dawson. This time Gentry was entirely focused on returning home as soon as possible, so if there were any “fairy lights” or any other odd sights to be seen in the Taiga Forest, he took no notice.

  It was not long before they were back at the Taiga Nest Inn, with Casper comfortable in the stable and Gentry happily drinking a pint (or two) of ale in the pub. Gentry was grateful that the journey home had been uneventful thus far, but as he looked out the window towards the Colton Gap, he knew he must be particularly careful these next few days. He needed good weather for a safe crossing of the mountain pass, and he needed to avoid Dennison and his gang once he reached Colton.

  Once again, Gentry’s thoughts went back to Luca, the boy who had helped him escape from Colton all those weeks ago. He wondered how Luca was doing, and he wondered if the boy had mentioned anything to his mother about the possibility of leaving with him. The boy deserves a second chance at life, too, he thought. I promised him.

  Now that the hard part of getting a message to Lady Dinah was over, Gentry thought it might be nice to have some company on the journey home. He wondered what his own parents would think of him bringing a strange boy home. But he knew that they would be supportive once they saw what a fine young man Luca was and learned what a tough life he had been living in Colton.

  When the sun came up the following day and not a cloud could be seen in the sky, Gentry decided it was time to make his way through the Colton Gap. His plan was to head directly to Luca’s house and hide out there until the boy came home. Aside from some fierce winds that would pelt their bodies with dust and debris from time to time, the trip through the Colton Gap was uneventful. It was shortly before sundown when Gentry approached the little shack of a brown house on the outskirts of Colton.

  *************

  After tending to Casper in the small shed, Gentry made his way into Luca’s house. He did not hear the boy, but he thought he heard the mother snoring in the next room. He had started a fire and was in the middle of making some pottage when the woman awoke and stumbled into the kitchen. She looked awful and it was clear to Gentry that she had been on quite a bender as of late. It shall be a good thing for Luca to come with me, he thought, frowning at the sorry state of the mother.

  It took a moment for her to register who Gentry was, but after she gazed upon his face she sank to the ground, sobbing. “It is all your fault,” she kept saying. Gentry went to pull her up off the ground and she spat at him with her voice full of venom, “Do not touch me! Let me be! It is your fault he is gone!”

  He is gone? For a moment Gentry wondered if the boy had followed him and was now lost somewhere on the trail between Colton and Mt. Xavier. “Where did Luca go?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  This made the woman sob even harder and it took several minutes before she mumbled softly, “He is out back. I covered him with a blanket.”

  Hearing these words, Gentry immediately rushed out the door. In the back of the house he could see a little mound in the distance, covered by a blanket. He ran to the mound and froze for a moment, his heart beating so loud it nearly drowned out every other sound. Slowly he pulled back the blanket. There was Luca, his body black and blue and bloated. It was all he could do to keep from gagging at the putrid smell of the decomposing body.

  He sank to his knees and started crying. “What happened, Luca?”

  What Gentry did not know – what he would eventually piece together during the mother’s rare bouts of clarity in the hours that followed – was that Luca had died about a week earlier.

  Luca’s mother recounted how Dennison and his gang had come to their house late one evening, “They said they wanted to teach him a lesson for deceiving them – for allowing some man they had been looking for to escape.” She looked upon Gentry with hate-filled eyes. “I know they were talking about you.”

  How did they find out that Luca helped me? Gentry wondered with horror. I should have never left him here. He told me how dangerous Dennison was. I should have known something might happen.

  The mother went on to describe how they each took turns beating Luca – kicking him, pounding on him. “They laughed each time he cried out in pain,” she sobbed. She claimed that she had tried to intervene, but they had easily pushed her away.

  The tears poured from her eyes as she recalled how the boy’s loud cries turned to soft whimpers, and his breathing became erratic. They left him, bloodied and bruised, curled up in a fetal position on the ground.

  *************

  Gentry worked long into the night digging a deep grave. He wrapped the boy’s body in the blanket and placed it gently into the ground. “I am so sorry, Luca,” he whispered, wiping the tears away. “I am sorry I failed you. I shall make them pay for this.”

  Unlike Reed, Colton was a lawless village. There was no constable to seek out to apprehend the murderers. There were no jails to keep them or judges to decide their fate. There would be no public hanging. If there was to be justice for Luca, it would be in the hands of Gentry alone – and he felt compelled to seek it. A little boy had lost his life. A little boy whose only crime had been to help a stranger in need. A little boy who could have become the younger brother Gentry never had, if things had unfolded differently. That little boy was dead, and Gentry knew it was all his fault. I failed him in life, I shall not fail him in death.

  Gentry had never known such depths of hatred as he now felt for Dennison and his gang. If it were not for the little bronze vessel in his coat pocket, and his responsibility to safely deliver it to Steward Isaiah, Gentry would have made his way to the Settler’s Inn right then and there. But deep down he knew he could not take on the entire gang at once – he needed to plot out the vengeance carefully. Fortunately, he thought, I shall have plenty of time to devote to this when I am
done with this journey.

  Anger boiled in Gentry’s blood, but guilt ate at his soul. If only I had taken Luca with me as he had asked. Gentry recalled how the boy had pleaded with him the last time they saw each other. This made the tears well up in Gentry’s eyes again as he began shoveling the dirt back into the grave, slowly covering the little boy’s body.

  He put five gold pieces on the table when he left early the next morning. The mother was still sleeping. He knew that she would probably use the money to buy more liquor, but he did not feel right about leaving her there with nothing. Because of him, she no longer had a son.

  In the early morning hours Gentry rode out of Colton without being seen. He and Casper made good time on the lonely road back to Bartow. The guards did not question him when he arrived at the north gate, which was just as well as Gentry was in no mood to talk. When he sat down to a pint of ale at the Cornerstone Inn and Tavern that night, his thoughts were entirely consumed with Luca. He did not celebrate in the fact that his long journey was finally nearing an end; he did not seem to care that he was but days from home.

  It was not until his mother came rushing at him with her arms wide open a few days later that Gentry finally smiled. “I have been waiting far too long to look upon your face again!” Edith cried.

  Hammond was equally pleased to see his son. He was up and walking again, though still with a hint of a limp. “You did it, my boy! I knew you could.” He slapped his son on the back and urged him inside. “Let us celebrate with some ale while you tell me all about your travels.”

  Gentry recounted his journey, but even though he was now on his fourth (or was it fifth?) pint of ale, he managed to keep his wits about him and he spoke nothing of Luca or his troubles in Colton.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Trust Your Instincts

  The following day Hammond and Gentry set off for the Village Square to deliver Lady Dinah’s message. Gentry was still exhausted from his journey and his mother had encouraged him to stay home and rest while Hammond brought the message to Adam, but Gentry was insistent that he be the one to hand over the bronze tube that he had carried throughout his journey to and from Mt. Xavier. It was not so much that he did not want his father to receive the credit – though perhaps that was a small part of it – but mostly he wanted closure and recognition for successfully completing such a difficult quest.

  Adam’s face beamed when he saw his two visitors at the Council Chamber door. “You made it! Please come in and tell me all about it while I prepare some tea.”

  Having told and retold the story to his parents so many times the night before, Gentry had grown tired of the tale, but Hammond was more than happy to speak on behalf of his son. His father managed to insert a few embellishments here and there, like the part about getting into a fight with the guard at the final stream crossing before Yukon, but for the most part he managed to tell it right, at least the parts of the story he knew.

  “Simply amazing,” said Adam, shaking his head. “I do not believe anyone else would have been able to complete such a journey. I am happy you made it back safe and sound.” Adam smiled and then extended his hand towards Gentry. “May I please have the message from Lady Dinah? The Steward shall be quite excited to receive it.”

  Gentry reached into his coat pocket to retrieve the bronze vessel. He glanced at it once more – the object of his quest – and handed it to Adam.

  Adam had barely grasped the vessel when he cried out, dropping the tube and shaking his hand. “Wizards be damned! That is quite hot, as if it had been set afire recently.”

  Hammond tried to pick it up from the floor but could not. The vessel remained on the floor while Hammond frantically shook and blew his fingers in a vain attempt to lessen the burning pain.

  Surprised by the reactions of Adam and his father, Gentry bent down to retrieve the tube and was able to handle it with no trouble at all. “Lady Dinah mentioned she had put a spell on it,” he said while looking at the tube curiously. “Perhaps it is her intention that I shall be the only one to deliver it to the Steward.”

  Adam had them remain in the entry hall while he went to fetch Steward Isaiah. “I shall be back within the hour. There is still some tea in the kettle, please help yourselves.”

  The Steward had been trying to help Fallon with his archery skills when Adam approached with the news of Gentry’s arrival. “Wonderful!” the Steward exclaimed in excitement and relief. Isaiah instructed Fallon to continue practicing for the remainder of the afternoon, and then headed off with Adam.

  Fallon had nodded in acknowledgement of the Steward’s request, but in truth he wondered how much longer he could go on – his arms were already quite sore. Fortunately Beatrice saved him a few minutes later by insisting that Fallon help her prepare dinner that evening. She had been watching the poor boy struggle for the past hour and knew he needed a break.

  *************

  The Steward happily greeted Hammond and Gentry upon seeing them in the entry hall of the Council Chambers. Again Gentry was beseeched with a request to recount his journey. This time Gentry did his own talking. It was an abridged version devoid of his father’s embellishments or anything to do with Luca, but it was no less impressive.

  The Steward could see the young man had been through much, probably more than he was letting on, and he placed his hand on Gentry’s shoulder. “You should be proud of yourself, Gentry. You have done a great service for the village, and I know it must not have been easy. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Steward.”

  Gentry slowly brought forth the bronze tube and admittedly even he was a bit nervous about the Steward taking possession of it.

  “Be careful, Steward, it might be hot to the touch,” Adam warned.

  But the Steward grabbed hold of the tube without incident and addressed Gentry. “If your schedule permits, I should like for you and your father to stay a little while longer – perhaps grab a pint at the Hartford Inn? I may be in need of further assistance, but I shall not know for certain until I read the Lady’s message. Also, I believe Adam still owes you the final payment for your services. It is well deserved.”

  “Aye, Steward. It is no trouble at all for us to wait,” Gentry said. And with fifty gold pieces in a small sack in his pocket, a short while later Gentry treated his father and himself to a large pint of ale at the Hartford Inn.

  Meanwhile, Steward Isaiah sat in the inner chambers pondering the bronze tube that held the message he had been so eager to receive. Isaiah pressed on the ornate seal and the tube opened to reveal a rolled-up message inside. As he slowly unrolled the message, however, it became obvious that the parchment was blank. “Interesting,” he muttered with a frown.

  He held the paper up to the stained glass ceiling for more light but nothing was revealed. Somewhat absent-mindedly, he began to trace his finger along the parchment where the words should have been and he was delighted to see a faint outline of script appear, though only for a few seconds at a time. He continued to stroke the paper word by word, line by line, until he grasped the full intent of the message:

  Dearest Steward Isaiah,

  I hope this letter finds you well. It seems only yesterday that I and the other wizards were taking advantage of your hospitality, though I know that time marches on faster for some than others. My sincerest regrets for the Plague that the Eastern Wizards set upon the Village of Reed in retaliation for providing us shelter. You should know that they paid dearly for their actions, although I suspect nothing can really ease the pain of losing Nora and the other villagers. For that, I am truly sorry.

  Regarding the subject matter of your letter – I have spent the past few days searching through the materials of my mother’s that still remain here at Mt. Xavier, and unfortunately did not find anything concerning Steward Elijah’s visit or the twins. However, my mother’s library was divided up as a precaution before the Second War and it is possible that the details of that particular meeting are in a journal currently under the prot
ection of another wizard. I shall reach out to the wizards about this matter, and shall send a message to you if I find anything. You should note, however, that this may take some time – potentially years. There are troubles brewing in the East again and I am not certain the wizards shall see this as a priority. Nevertheless, I shall see what I can do.

  In the meantime, my advice to you is to trust your instincts. As the Steward of Reed, no one would know better than you as to who is a worthy replacement. My own experience tells me that just because someone is slightly different does not mean they are not of value. Regardless, it is imperative that you are comfortable with your ultimate decision – the safekeeping of the village depends on it.

  Deepest regards,

  Lady Dinah

  *************

  Isaiah read and re-read the message several times before putting it down with a sigh. He had been hoping for some direction, some wisdom to guide his actions, but Lady Dinah’s letter seemed only to point things back to himself. Trust your instincts. He recalled the lack of information provided in Steward Elijah’s journal about his meeting with Lady Delia, and he now wondered if perhaps the previous Steward had suffered a similar fate. The Steward sighed again. Hopefully the Lady shall find her mother’s notes. In the meantime, it appears I have some things to figure out for myself.

  Steward Isaiah was deep in thought as he left the Council Chambers, and had he not seen Adam in the street he might have forgotten that Hammond and Gentry were waiting for him in the Hartford Inn. He sought out the young man and his father. They were seated in a quiet booth near the rear of the pub, a perfect place to have a private conversation.